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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185516">Who We Were and How We've Grown</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennsepticeye/pseuds/Jennsepticeye'>Jennsepticeye</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Torture, Bucky Barnes Has Nightmares, Canonical Character Death, December 16 1991, Dog Tags, Getting Together, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Nightmares, Period-Typical Homophobia, Repression, Secret Relationship, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Temporary Character Death, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Twitter, no beta we die like men, pre-war stucky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:29:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185516</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennsepticeye/pseuds/Jennsepticeye</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been nineteen years since he defected from Hydra, and sixty-seven since he fell in the Alps. Queer marriage is legal in New York and his Stevie is dead in the Arctic.<br/>Bucky stares at the metal that used to be his left hand, the fourth finger where a ring could have been, and he mourns.</p>
<p>aka<br/>The Stucky AU we all deserve<br/>37 pages of emotional prose and repression</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>173</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Who We Were and How We've Grown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Alright, so back in 2018 I wrote a fic called "Who We Were and What We've Become"<br/>At almost 8.5k it was the longest thing I'd written ever (though it was only like, my second fic here on ao3) and has recently lost that title to my self-insert Arachnikid-A Saga. By a lot.</p>
<p>I debated for a while what I would do with WWW&amp;WWB, now that I'm uploading this one.<br/>My original thought was to upload this one as WWW&amp;WWB, and keep the old one as a google doc, or to add this one as as a new chapter/part of a series. Then I thought about uploading this one, and orphaning the old one (but linking them together)</p>
<p>I still don't quite know what I'm going to do, feel free to tell me in the comments.<br/>And if you couldn't tell, the title is not just a title, it's also a play on this fic's use to indicate how my writing has grown. It's over 2k longer than its predecessor. I didn't even change any plot points, I just made it more emotionally raw lmao.</p>
<p>Anyway, enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1940</p>
<p>“I had ‘em on the ropes” Steve insists, holding the damp rag to his bruised cheek.</p>
<p>Bucky smiles, ignoring the way Steve’s determined face makes his heart thrum in his chest. “I’m sure you did, punk. What were they doing this time?”</p>
<p><em> This time. </em>There’s always a reason, and it’s always a good one, but Bucky just wishes his friend would be smarter about the whole thing.</p>
<p>“They were pushin’ around a doll, callin’ her names and… insinuating things.” Steve’s nose wrinkles in disgust.</p>
<p>“I know it ain’t right,” Bucky sighs. “But you’re about as small as the dames they’re pickin’ on. I worry about you. Maybe just <em> try </em>getting help one of these days?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, alright.” Steve pouts, which really means <em> ‘Not a chance in hell.’ </em>You can’t win them all. “Where would I be without you Buck?”</p>
<p>“Bleedin’ out in an alley probably.” He jokes, pouring all the alcohol they can spare over the scrapes on Steve’s knuckles. He has small, boney hands. Hands made for pencils and art, not back alley fights. Not that Bucky would ever say any of that out loud. He’s not stupid. </p>
<p>Bucky forces himself to let go of his friend’s hand. </p>
<p><em> This is wrong! Dangerous! Stupid! </em>his brain screams.</p>
<p>“Jerk.”</p>
<p>“Punk.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Bucky wakes up suddenly in the early morning, startled awake by Steve’s wet and rattling coughs right next to him. Each one makes his small frame spasm in a way that looks painful.</p>
<p>“C’mon, Stevie. You gotta sit up.” Bucky encourages, fighting off the last dregs of drowsiness. He tugs Steve up by the arm, his skin is scorching with fever.</p>
<p>Steve sits up reluctantly, the cough calming somewhat. He leans back against Bucky’s chest, exhausted and breathing heavily. Each ragged breath threatens to catch in his throat and send him into another fit.</p>
<p>“I’m so tired of this.” Steve mumbles, voice thick with phlegm and sleep. “I don’t wanna be sick anymore, Bucky.”</p>
<p>“I know, Stevie. I know.” Bucky murmurs, brushing blonde hair back from a sweaty brow. It feels wrong to be taking advantage of Steve’s sickly state like this, but the guy is so out of it that he leans into the touch anyway. As if sharing a bed with the guy did make Bucky’s heart beat loud, loud, loud anyway.</p>
<p>
  <em> Stop! Stopstopstopstopstopst— </em>
</p>
<p>Soon Steve falls back into a fitful sleep, head cushioned under Bucky’s chin. Bucky leans back against the headboard and doesn’t sleep another wink all night</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“Say, Stevie. How come ya never seem interested in any of the girls we take out?” Bucky asks one night as they’re getting home from the dance hall. The date had ended, as they all had, with both girls on Bucky’s arms and Steve pouting.</p>
<p>Something unidentifiable flashes across Steve’s face, but it’s gone before Bucky can figure out what it means. </p>
<p>“Mutual disinterest.” He says after a moment, shrugging like it doesn’t bother him. “What about you? How come you never take a girl for more than one date?”</p>
<p>
  <em> He knows. HeknowsHeknowsHeknows. Hurry. Deflect! </em>
</p>
<p>“There ain’t no dame I’ve met who can tie James Barnes down.” He says with a wink, hopefully masking his mounting panic.</p>
<p>“Buck…” Steve asks cautiously. “Are you… queer?”</p>
<p>Bucky freezes, breath catching in his chest as the front door clicks shut.</p>
<p>“No!” He says, far too quickly for it to be convincing. He sputters, trying to come up with something, anything to fix this.</p>
<p>“Relax, Buck. I ain’t gonna report ya. I was just curious, that’s all.” Steve is smiling. God how he loves that smile. <em> Why is he smiling? </em></p>
<p>Bucky’s insides are in knots as he processes what his friend just said. <em> You’re okay. He doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind. It’s fine. </em></p>
<p>“Quit spacin’ out. It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”</p>
<p>Bucky nods, gathering a blanket and pillow from the bed, prepared to sleep on the floor. It won’t be comfortable, but he would do anything to keep Steve from being disgusted at him.</p>
<p>“What the hell are you doing? Get up here.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He says sheepishly. </p>
<p>“I’ll be much more uncomfortable when I freeze to death. Don’t make it a big deal, Buck. Just get in the bed.” Steve says.</p>
<p>Bucky obliges, crawling under the covers and settling on the awful creaking mattress beside his sleeping friend.</p>
<p>
  <em> You can’t! You can’t! </em>
</p>
<p>“G’night, Buck.” Steve slurs, already half asleep.</p>
<p>“G’night.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>1943</p>
<p>“Orders?” Steve asks, spotting the paper clenched in Bucky’s fist and eyeing the olive green uniform.</p>
<p>“One-oh-seventh.” Bucky says, trying to mask his anxiety with overdone swagger. It doesn’t work and he still sounds anxious. “Sergeant James Barnes. Shipping out for England first thing tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“I should be going with you.” Steve sighs, and for once, Bucky doesn’t argue. Tomorrow morning it won’t matter anyway.</p>
<p>He smiles as best he can and tugs tiny, tiny Steve into his side. “Come on. It’s my last night. Gotta get you cleaned up.”</p>
<p>They walk back to the apartment in silence, and Bucky pretends the arm over Steve’s shoulder is for purely selfless reasons. It’s getting cold out, Steve will catch his death in this weather.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>It’s dark out by the time the pair are ready to head out to the Stark Expo. Steve is hesitating, like he wants to say something but he can’t find the words. He bounces on the balls of his feet like he’s nervous about something.</p>
<p>“You alright there, pal?” Bucky asks.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I just…” The usually articulate Steven Rogers is at a loss for words. Bucky never thought he’d see the day. His face is red, either from embarrassment or something else entirely. </p>
<p>“It’s probably easier if I just show you.” He says finally. He’s got that same look on his face that he has when he picks fights with guys twice his size. In the blink of an eye he wraps those delicate little fingers around Bucky’s tie and pulls him into a kiss.</p>
<p>Bucky’s mind is reeling with a dozen different half-baked thoughts. He shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s far too good to let go. A dream come true. He kisses back because <em> fuck </em>that’s all he’s wanted for years.</p>
<p>Steve’s the one with asthma, but when they pull away from each other they’re both out of breath.</p>
<p>“Stevie…” Bucky whispers. “We can’t.”</p>
<p>“I know… I just thought you should know.” He says.</p>
<p>“Come on. We’ll talk about this later. We can’t leave the girls waiting.” But they both know there isn’t a ‘later.’ </p>
<p>Bucky ships out early in the morning, alone.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p> “I’ve signed more of the condolence letters today than I’d care to count, but the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Steve’s head spins. He hasn’t felt this faint since before Erskine cured his asthma.</p>
<p>
  <em> No! Nonononononono— </em>
</p>
<p>He lets impulse take over. </p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>He can’t put his finger on why he walked into that specific room in the Hydra base, a gut feeling maybe, but he’s so glad that he does.</p>
<p>“Bucky. Buck, hey. It’s me. It’s Steve.” He says gently, tearing the straps off without bothering to undo the buckles.</p>
<p>“Steve…?”</p>
<p>Steve has never been so relieved to hear someone’s voice before.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Come on.” He says, pulling Bucky off the table. After a moment of silence he lets out a breath. “I thought you were dead.”</p>
<p>“I thought you were smaller.”</p>
<p>Steve almost wants to laugh. He had missed Bucky’s sharp tongue more than he realized.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>There’s a moment, as the base starts to blow apart, and Bucky is on the other side of the fiery chasm. It’s a terrible, awful moment where Steve is sure he’s going to make this place his tomb. How anticlimactic. After finally being strong, and rescuing the most important person in his life, he’s going to die in an explosion on his first mission.</p>
<p>“Just go!” He shouts, because he can’t let Bucky die here too.</p>
<p>“No! Not without you!” The other screams, so desperate and ragged. Steve can’t go out like this. He can’t leave Bucky alone.</p>
<p>When he jumps, it’s because he knows Bucky will catch him.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>They cause one hell of a fuss when they return to camp, a legion of rescued POWs led by Captain America himself. He’s not just a show-girl in tights anymore, prancing around on a stage to sell war bonds. Captain America isn’t pretending to be a hero anymore, he is one.</p>
<p>It’s dusk by the time Steve manages to slip away and pull Bucky with him into an empty tent. Everybody else is too busy celebrating to come look for them.</p>
<p>“Steve, wha—?”</p>
<p>Steve is done being patient. There’s not a moment of hesitation when he grabs his favorite person by his dog tags and pulls him into a kiss. He throws his whole being into the kiss, every feeling of relief and happiness and forgotten worry.</p>
<p>Bucky pulls away first, frowning. “Stevie, you know we can’t.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, no shit.” Bucky’s eyes go wide. Steve only ever swears when he wants Bucky to listen. “Murder and theft aren’t legal either, but that doesn’t stop it from happening. I figure, as long as we ain’t hurtin’ anyone, we at least deserve this. After all we’ve been through.”</p>
<p>He says it like it’s that simple, and maybe it is.</p>
<p>“You always were smarter than me.” Bucky is smiling, but he’s not happy. He sounds sad, defeated even. “Guess now you’re stronger than me too.”</p>
<p>“Buck, what are you on about?”</p>
<p>The smile falls from his face. “I mean, you don’t need me to look after you anymore. You can find yourself a dame, someone sharp like that Carter woman, and live your life. You don’t need to be stuck with me.”</p>
<p>“I swear, Bucky Barnes, your head must be filled with mud if you think that’s what I want. How could you think that?”  Steve asks, holding onto Bucky’s arms. “Just ‘cause I don’t need you to beat up schoolyard bullies for me, doesn’t mean I don’t want you by my side. Dammit, Buck. I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen. That doesn’t just go away because Agent Carter punched a guy during Basic.”</p>
<p>Steve’s words finally seem to register, and Bucky smiles, tentative but real. </p>
<p>“You better not change your mind, punk.” He says, hundreds of unsaid words trapped behind his eyes.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t dream of it, jerk.”</p>
<p>And then Bucky’s the one reeling him back in for a kiss. Steve’s has to bend down to reach now, and it’s strange, but Bucky’s mouth is scorching in the English cold.</p>
<p>“Captain Rogers, I—” Agent Carter’s crisp voice cuts off abruptly as she opens the tent flap.</p>
<p>Steve and Bucky jump apart like they’ve been burned, and Carter’s just staring<em> . </em></p>
<p>
  <em> Oh God, please no.  </em>
</p>
<p>“That’s certainly not what I was expecting to walk in on. I assume you two will be bunking together?”</p>
<p>They blink owlishly at her.</p>
<p>“I’ll take that as a yes. Well, I’ll let you two get back to it, though I do need to see you first thing tomorrow, Captain.” She gives a knowing wink before sauntering off, canvas falling shut behind her.</p>
<p>Steve breaks the silence first with a startled laugh, and soon they’re both laughing so hard they’re in stitches. It’s a mystery what’s so funny, but Steve will never, <em> ever </em>get tired of hearing Bucky’s laugh.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“Here. I want you to have these.” Bucky says, just as they’re leaving sitrep for a new mission in the French Alps. He’s holding out his dog tags, well worn.</p>
<p>“What for?” Steve asks, taking them gently, like they’re more precious than gold.</p>
<p>“Good luck? In case something happens.” He shrugs, like it’s nothing.</p>
<p>“Well then, I can’t send you in without proper good luck either.” Steve replies, replacing his own tags with Bucky’s. “Just don’t die out there.”</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t dream of it, pal. ‘Till the end of the line, right?”</p>
<p>“‘Till the end of the line.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“Bucky!” Steve is already hanging halfway out of the train car. The cold air stings as bad as any knife. “Hang on!”</p>
<p>The railing in Bucky’s hands is broken, creaking ominously. Steve can’t get close enough and the wind is louder than any air raid siren.</p>
<p>“Grab my hand!”</p>
<p>Bucky reaches for him, arm outstretched, eyes wide with fear, and then it’s too late. The railing comes loose from the train and Bucky is screaming. Bucky is falling. He’s gone in an instant.</p>
<p>Steve doesn’t remember the rest of that mission.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“I gotta put her in the water.” Steve says, just weeks after the Alps. His voice drips with sad conviction.</p>
<p>
  <em> You deserve this. Bucky’s gone because of you. Bucky. BuckyBuckyBuckyBucky— </em>
</p>
<p>“Please don’t do this.” Peggy pleads. “We have time. We can work it out.”</p>
<p>“If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die.” He replies. “Peggy, this is my choice.”</p>
<p>Steve reaches into the front of his suit. His hands are steady; he’s not scared. He looks at the small chips of metal sitting in his palm.</p>
<p><b>James B. Barnes</b> <b><br/></b> <b>32557038 T43 42 O</b></p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Buck.” He whispers to the empty air. “I love you.”</p>
<p>Everything goes black and cold in an instant.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>It’s too cold, Bucky thinks. He shouldn’t be alive. Everything hurts and he’s being dragged through the snow, leaving a ruby red trail in his wake. He wants Steve. He wants his baby sister, Becca. He wants to sleep forever.</p>
<p>Bucky remembers pain, excruciating, constant pain. The Soldier doesn’t remember anything. Bucky is stuck in the back seat of his own body, chained down and forced to watch his own hands commit atrocities he wishes he could forget. The left one is made of metal now, they call it the Weapon, and someone chokes under its hold. Bucky hates that hand.</p>
<p>They put him in an ice cold box, it feels just like the snow where he died. Both the Soldier and Bucky sleep.</p>
<p>The Soldier is woken up sporadically through the years. He wakes and kills in the 50s. He does the same through the 60s, the 70s, the 80s.</p>
<p>In 1991 the Soldier murders Howard Stark and Bucky is screaming in the back seat.</p>
<p>This time, the Soldier, the Asset, never makes it back to whoever had purchased him and sent him after Stark. Purchased, like a fucking dog. Someone the Soldier only remembers as a color, red, catches him off guard. When everything goes dark this time, at least it’s not cold.</p>
<p>The Soldier wakes up only hours later, the Weapon pinned beneath the pressure of a hydraulic press. The red one calls him “James.”</p>
<p>“Do you know who you are?” She asks, voice strong.</p>
<p>“Зимний солдат.” He answers. <em> The Winter Soldier. </em></p>
<p>Red doesn’t like this answer. She leaves him alone with his thoughts and a bowl of watery soup.</p>
<p>She comes back the next day, and the next. She asks the same question and gets the same answer. Always some variation of ‘the Soldier’ or ‘the Asset’ and never what she is hoping to hear. For more than a month. With every repetition of the question the chains keeping Bucky Barnes trapped in his own head loosen. There’s no machine to make him forget, but the Soldier won’t give up control without a fight.</p>
<p>“What is your name?” Red asks.</p>
<p>The Soldier’s head is pounding and Bucky is writhing, squirming free of the last of the chains. He claws his way forward and grabs the wheel.</p>
<p>“My name is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the one hundred-seventh infantry.” He grinds out, stomach roiling. </p>
<p>“Took you long enough, James.” Red smirks, voice low. “It’s time for you to remember.”</p>
<p>She leaves him alone again, the Weapon now in a shackle. He uses his right to swallow scalding, tar-black coffee. His head hurts.</p>
<p>The memories come back most clearly in his sleep. Most nights the dreams are bloody and violent, his own hands murdering strangers without remorse. On those nights Bucky wakes up shouting. The Soldier is angry. He fights to regain control, to throw Bucky from the driver’s seat, but Bucky is as stubborn as they come.</p>
<p>Sometimes the dreams are soft, warm, and smudged with graphite. On those nights Bucky wakes up shaking with the ghosts of hands on his skin and the taste of a name on his tongue.</p>
<p>His memories are a puzzle that’s missing half a dozen pieces, but without the machine, without the Soldier behind the wheel, he’s finding more than a few kicked under the couch.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“How much do you remember, James?” Red— Natalia asks.</p>
<p>“Too much.” He replies.</p>
<p>“What year is it?” </p>
<p>“1992.”</p>
<p>“Good.” Natalia hands over a set of plain-looking clothes, the shackle long gone. “Hydra is going to want their pet back, so lay low. You’re a free man now.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.” He says.</p>
<p>“I’ll be in touch.” She replies, and then she’s gone, leaving Bucky alone for real.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>After that, Bucky finds himself in New York City. His left hand is tucked in his pocket and a ball cap is pulled low over his eyes. There’s an exhibit in the Smithsonian and his face is etched into the glass.</p>
<p><em> A Fallen Brother </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> Sergeant James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes </em></p>
<p>
  <em> 1917-1945 </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Born and raised in Brooklyn, Sergeant Barnes was the childhood best friend of Steve Rogers aka Captain America. They formed an inseparable pair both in the school yard and on the battlefield. Never far from Captain Rogers, he became the sniper and second-in-command of The Howling Commandos. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> In 1943, while serving with the 107th on the Italian front, he was captured by Hydra. Barnes endured long periods of starvation, isolation, torture, and experimentation. He was rescued by Captain Rogers more than two months later. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Reunited, the pair formed and co-lead the Howling Commandos until Barnes was killed in action in the French Alps. Even death could not separate Barnes from his best friend for long. Only a couple months later, Rogers crashed an enemy plane in the Arctic ocean. Neither body was ever recovered. </em>
</p>
<p>Bucky reads and re-reads every plaque in the exhibit, letting the memories spark and ignite like flash paper. He doesn’t leave until the security guard tells him that the museum is closing for the night.</p>
<p>Afterwards he goes back to his apartment and grieves. He’d known, logically, that after all these years, Steve would have died. Finding out how, however, makes it real, makes it hurt.</p>
<p>It’s just like Steve to sacrifice himself for the lives of others. Even when he was no more than a bag of bones.</p>
<p>At least, Bucky thinks, it had been quick.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Bucky doesn’t hear from Natalia for more than a decade until the Spring of 2005 when he returns from work to find her on his couch, reading a magazine.</p>
<p>“Hello, James.” She says, not looking up.</p>
<p>“Long time no see, Red.”</p>
<p>“I came across something of yours, figured I’d return them.” She says, and tosses something at him. Crusted in dirt and years old blood, Bucky catches his dog tags.</p>
<p><b>Steven G. Rogers</b><b><br/></b><b>66872312 T42 43  AB</b><b><br/></b> <b>C</b></p>
<p>“Thanks, Natalia.” He says, looping the chain over his head.</p>
<p>She stands, and hands him something else. A VHS tape. “This is yours too, the Soldier’s technically. Do with it what you want.”</p>
<p>She walks out the door without another word. She never was a talkative woman, even in the Soldier’s memories.</p>
<p>Bucky turns the tape over in his hand.</p>
<p><b>Кадры миссии по активам</b> <b><br/></b> <b>16 декабря 1991 г.</b></p>
<p>He knows what it is without watching it. His final mission as the Soldier.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>The decision to send the tape to Howard’s son, a man named Anthony, isn’t one he has to think about. Writing a letter and picking his words, though, requires more thought.</p>
<p>          Anthony Stark,</p>
<p>My name is James Barnes. Hydra called me the Winter Soldier.</p>
<p>I was captured 1945, tortured, and brainwashed. They turned me into their weapon. They gave me a version of the super soldier serum given to Steve Rogers. I was taken in and out of cryostasis and had my memories periodically wiped until I defected in 1992.</p>
<p>I’m sending you this tape, not to ask for forgiveness, but because you deserve to know the truth. Your parents did not die in a car accident. Whatever you decide to do with this information, I won’t fight it. Also enclosed are the Hydra files I had with me when I defected.</p>
<p>For what it’s worth. I think that they would be proud of what you’ve built, Anthony.</p>
<p>                                 Signed,<br/>                                    James Buchanan Barnes.</p>
<p>Bucky never was the best with words, but it says all that he wants to say.</p>
<p>He never hears anything about the letter, or the tape, or the files. No SWAT team comes to break down his door, and life goes on. Still, he’s confident that Stark received the package.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Bucky is only halfway tuned in when the news drops. It’s the Summer of 2011 and he’s in the middle of making lunch. The TV is on in the background.</p>
<p>
  <em> “It’s official, everybody. The Courts have made their ruling. As of today, same sex marriage is legal in New York State.” </em>
</p>
<p>It’s been nineteen years since he defected from Hydra, and sixty-seven since he fell in the Alps. Queer marriage is legal in New York and his Stevie is dead in the Arctic.</p>
<p>Bucky stares at the metal that used to be his left hand, the fourth finger where a ring could have been, and he mourns.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Despite ridding himself of the Soldier’s control, the instincts he gained during that time remain locked in his muscles. He knows someone is in his apartment without consciously recognizing the signs.</p>
<p>Bucky points his gun at the man on the couch.</p>
<p>“Who are you?” He demands</p>
<p>“I’m Agent Coulson, and you are Sergeant James Barnes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He stands and holds out a hand, unphased by the gun leveled at his head. Bucky doesn’t shake it.</p>
<p>Coulson sighs, dropping his hand back to his side. “Sergeant Barnes, I’ve come to give you some news. The agency I work for uncovered Johann Schmidt’s aircraft early yesterday morning. We have not yet located Captain Rogers, but we thought we should inform you.”</p>
<p>Bucky adjusts his grip on the gun. “No. You’re lying.”</p>
<p>“I assure you, I am not. If you’re open to it, we’d like to fly you out.” Coulson says. “It’s the least we can do.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“Because of you and Miss Romanova, our agency has confirmed the existence of Hydra here in the states and taken out several branches. We feel it’s only right you’re there to help bring him home.”</p>
<p>“What agency did you say you’re from?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t. Have you ever heard of SHIELD?”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Bucky is freezing, even with the hood of the high-tech coat pulled over his head. He hates being cold. The snow burns his face and his left shoulder aches.</p>
<p>“Sergeant Barnes!” Someone calls, he’s a dark-skinned man with an eyepatch. “Welcome to the middle of nowhere.”</p>
<p>The wind is so harsh and loud they have to yell to hear one another. The man introduces himself as Director Fury, the leader of SHIELD. Carter and Stark really had created something great. Bucky’s proud of them.</p>
<p>Moments later someone speeds up next to them on a snowmobile. “Director Fury, we’ve located the cockpit, sir.” </p>
<p>Fury smiles. “Impeccable timing, Sergeant. It seems we’ve nearly found him.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>The aircraft is huge and gaping, carefully melted to avoid damaging or destabilizing anything. There are agents nearby carefully diffusing one of the many bombs along the walls of the vessel. </p>
<p>The Valkyrie is an artificial cavern untouched by time. The whole thing sends a chill down Bucky’s spine that’s unrelated to the cold.</p>
<p>Someone brushes past them, familiar shield in hand. Bucky’s heart stops as he watches the unnamed agent hold Steve’s shield with careful hands and climb out of the Valkyrie. This is going to be harder than he thought.</p>
<p>“Director! Sergeant!” Coulson shouts from somewhere ahead of them. “He’s over here!”</p>
<p>If Bucky didn’t know any better, he’d think Steve is sleeping. His expression is peaceful, and his right hand clutches the dog tags around his neck. There’s a swirl of crimson, a halo of blood around his head, and Bucky thinks he might be sick.</p>
<p>“Stevie…” He gasps, falling to his knees. He doesn’t even notice the way everyone ducks their heads respectfully, a false gesture of privacy.</p>
<p>“I told you—” He chokes, eyes burning. “I told you not to do anything stupid until I got back.”</p>
<p>It’s so cold, even inside the Valkyrie, that the tears freeze on his face.</p>
<p>“Dumb fuckin’ punk...”</p>
<p>After a moment he stands, blinking way the last of his tears and scrubbing the ice from his cheeks. Once he’s plastered a façade of composure in place he turns around.</p>
<p>“Let's get him home.” He says to Fury, walking away without another word.</p>
<p>They extract Steve from the ice sixteen hours later, a solid block to be safely defrosted back on US soil. Despite how much he hates the cold, Bucky sits in the freezer with his body in the entire flight back home.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“So you’re the infamous Bucky Barnes.” Someone says when they land. The voice sounds like Howard, but the Soldier killed him. Bucky turns.</p>
<p>“Tony Stark.” He says. “SHIELD put me in charge of defrosting the Capsicle. Apparently I can be trusted.”</p>
<p>Bucky stares. He killed this man’s parents, yet Tony is speaking like they’ve just met up for coffee. “I—”</p>
<p>“Relax, Robocop. I’d be a hypocrite to hold you accountable. Torture? Been there, done that.” He taps the glowing-blue circle in the center of his chest. Bucky remembers hearing about it on the news. Afghanistan. </p>
<p>“You look just like him.” Bucky says without thinking. “I’m sorry…”</p>
<p>Tony honest-to-god smiles. It’s not a happy smile, but he’s certainly not upset. “Can’t say I’m not upset, ya know? But there are more important things to worry about at the moment. We can talk trauma later.” </p>
<p>He claps Bucky on the shoulder, the right one. “Welcome to Stark Tower.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Bucky can’t do much to help while Steve’s body is being carefully removed from the ice, so he spends a lot of time going through their old belongings. Howard had kept a bunch of odds and ends that the pair had left behind when— </p>
<p>Howard had apparently willed them to his son who kept them in storage until now. </p>
<p>In one box there’s a half dozen sketchbooks, filled with all sorts of art, the majority of which depict Bucky’s face. He huffs out a laugh when he stumbles upon the sketch of a star-spangled monkey on a tightrope.</p>
<p>There’s a stuffed bear dressed in Bucky’s blue uniform. He’s never seen it before, but the tag says ‘Bucky Bear.’ </p>
<p>There’s also  a blue showgirl helmet with a faded ‘A’ on the front. It’s the same one Steve had worn when he’d rescued Bucky in Italy. That’s where Tony finds him, the thumb on his right hand idly tracing the chipping paint.</p>
<p>“Barnes.” He says, practically crashing through the door. He’s out of breath. Had he run all the way from the lab? “You’re going to want to see this.”</p>
<p>Then he’s gone and Bucky scrambles after him, down to the lab where Steve is half-way freed from the ice. Bucky can’t help but stare.</p>
<p>“Pay attention, Robocop.” He says sharply, fiddling with various pieces of equipment that surround the table. “For all intents and purposes, Cap here is frozen solid. That’s why we have to defrost him so slow, so we don’t risk any cracks damaging the body.”</p>
<p>Bucky nods.</p>
<p>“Except, that’s not quite true.” Stark pulls up a hologram with nothing displayed but one straight line. “It was too slow, so we didn’t catch it until now, but just watch.”</p>
<p>For several seconds nothing happens, then, there’s a soft <em> beep </em>and the line spikes upwards.</p>
<p>“Is that…?” Bucky doesn’t want to get his hopes up.</p>
<p>Stark grins. “It absolutely is. Somehow the Capsicle has a pulse, currently at the remarkable average of two beats per minute.”</p>
<p>“Are you saying— You mean—”</p>
<p>“It means that he’s basically been cryogenically frozen for the last sixty-something years. There could be complications, but based on this guy’s track record, I’d say he’s going to wake up.”</p>
<p>Bucky feels like he’s going to vomit, or cry, or faint, or maybe even have a panic attack.</p>
<p>
  <em> He’s alive. He’s alive hesalivehesalivehesalive </em>
</p>
<p>Suddenly the black hole that’s been sitting behind his ribs since 1992 doesn’t feel quite so suffocating.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“What’s with the movie set?” Bucky asks, looking critically at the room SHIELD is setting up, an almost perfect replica of the old VA hospitals.</p>
<p>“We figured it might be a little rough for him to wake up in Stark’s lab. We want to give him something familiar to keep him from panicking.” Fury says, absently directing agents as they speak.</p>
<p>“I want to be there when he wakes up.” Bucky says, not leaving room for argument. He tries not to think about what could have gone wrong. He has too much personal experience with the effects of cryo-stasis and head trauma on the brain.</p>
<p>“I’m afraid I can’t allow that, Sergeant Barnes. Waking up to a ghost—”</p>
<p>“Bullshit.” Bucky interrupts. “I’m his next of kin, I have medical power of attorney. If this doesn’t work then he’s going to assume the worst. He’ll need someone to calm him down.”</p>
<p>“He’s wearing your tags, Barnes. What is he to you?”</p>
<p>“Everything.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>The chair in the too clean hospital replica is just as uncomfortable as Bucky had expected. He realizes, after a few minutes of listening, that the stereo is playing the Dodgers game from 1941.</p>
<p>Bucky laughs to himself. SHIELD historians must not be very bright. The woman they were going to have play nurse didn’t even have her hair up. He and Steve had gone to that very baseball game together.</p>
<p>The man in question lies motionless, face up on the bed. His chest rises and falls shallowly. Bucky remembers watching a much smaller chest do the same thing every winter when Steve caught pneumonia.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>
  <em> “Steve!” Bucky yells, bursting through the front door of their apartment. “I hope you’re up for some fun!” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Steve’s head appears from the kitchenette. “What are you going on about? This isn’t another date, is it? You and I both know those never work out.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Bucky groans melodramatically. “Hush up. I got us Dodgers tickets, you punk. For this afternoon.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “You what!?” Steve’s whole face lights up. “How?! We don’t have the money for that!” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Well, the boss was gonna take his wife, but had a last minute business trip to Albany. So, he let me buy the tickets off him real cheap.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Steve is smiling, blindingly bright. Bucky would do just about anything to see that smile. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Well? What are you waiting for? Grab your coat, maybe we can see them warm up!” </em>
</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>The bed frame creaks loudly and Bucky startles awake. He hadn’t even realized he’d closed his eyes.</p>
<p>Steve is awake now, sitting up in the bed. His crystal blue eyes dart around the room, confused and warry. Eventually he sees the ghost in the corner, face going slack.</p>
<p>“Bucky?”</p>
<p>Bucky is up and across the room before he can even think about moving. He pulls Steve as close as humanly possible, metal and flesh hands clenched in the back of a look-a-like t-shirt. Bucky presses his face into the junction of Steve’s neck and shoulder. He doesn’t smell familiar, not like lye soap or mud. He doesn’t smell like much of anything, but he’s warm. He’s <em> alive. </em></p>
<p>“Steve, you stupid punk.” He whispers, voice cracking as he fights back tears.</p>
<p>“I thought you were dead.” Steve says, hugging back just as tight.</p>
<p>“I thought you were smaller.” Bucky says, remembering their reunion in Italy all those decades ago.</p>
<p>“Gosh, Buck. Let me look at you.” Steve pushes away, taking in the long hair, the stubble, and finally, the metal hand poking out the end of his sleeve. He most certainly doesn’t look like the Bucky  Steve remembers.</p>
<p>“What the hell happened? Is that radio playing a game from ‘41?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that is what it’s playing.” Bucky agrees with a chuckle.</p>
<p>A stricken look crosses Steve’s face. “Were we captured?”</p>
<p>“I wish it was that simple, pal. But no, we’re safe.” He promises, pausing for a moment. “But it’s 2011.”</p>
<p>Steve’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Like, the year 2011?”</p>
<p>“The very same. No flying cars, though. I guess they couldn’t get that one off the ground. No pun intended.” Bucky prays that cracking jokes can keep his facade from crumbling to pieces. Nothing says <em> ‘welcome back’ </em>like tears.</p>
<p>“I have so many questions.” </p>
<p>“I figured. There’s a mess hall nearby. You gotta be hungry after sixty-seven years in the Arctic. I’ll explain the best I can over lunch.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“Alright, let me know if I got it all.” Steve says, after eating enough for seven. “After you fell in the Alps you were captured by Hydra. They gave you a new arm, tortured and brainwashed you, the whole nine yards. All of this turned you into the Winter Soldier, an assassin for… purchase? Then, after roughly fifty years of off and on cryo-stasis they sent you to kill Howard and his wife. After that another assassin broke you free and sent you on your way, and nineteen years later some guy told you I had been found in the Arctic?”</p>
<p>Bucky nods, his lunch threatening to crawl up his throat at the memories. “Yeah, as far as my tragedy goes. This is Howard’s son’s facility, actually. Also computers fit in your pocket and queers can get married in New York.”</p>
<p>Steve grins. “So I missed all the good stuff then?” </p>
<p>He crosses his ankle over Bucky’s beneath the table. His memories are swiss cheese but he vaguely remembers doing the same thing in military mess halls and seated around campfires.</p>
<p>“I’ve done some terrible things, Stevie.” He says after a moment. The Weapon whirs as he clenches it into a fist. “I hurt so many people. I killed Howard and Maria. I’m a monster”</p>
<p>Something dark crosses Steve’s face, and Bucky braces for the worst. “Your head must be filled with mud, Buck. Who cared for me every time I came down with pneumonia or had an asthma attack? Who helped Mrs. Oswald carry her groceries every week? That was you. You’re not a monster. You’re not what Hydra made you do, and I know you never would have done any of that if you had a choice.”</p>
<p>He reaches across the table and takes Bucky’s hands in his own. One of metal and one of flesh, both stained with invisible blood. Bucky’s breath hitches.</p>
<p>“You never once gave up on me, so there’s no way in hell I’ll give up on you.”</p>
<p>“Punk.” Bucky chuckles, shoulders drooping.</p>
<p>“Jerk.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“Everything is so shiny.” Steve huffs, eyes wandering around every room they pass through. “It’s so ugly.”</p>
<p>“Don’t tell Stark that. He says it’s in style.” Bucky laughs, stepping into his quarters. Though ‘quarters’ is the understatement of the century. The bedroom alone is bigger than anywhere he and Steve had lived before the war. It’s late now, and they’re both emotionally exhausted. Holding back tears is hard work.</p>
<p>They stand, shoulder to shoulder, desperate to reach out but too unsure to take the risk. So instead they head to the bedroom, wordlessly agreeing that the rules in this space are the same as they were in their drafty Brooklyn apartment. Though this bed is much larger and softer than they’d ever dreamed of owning.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, once they’ve both changed into sleeping clothes. The question catches Bucky off guard.</p>
<p>“What d’ya mean?”</p>
<p>“I’ve known you my entire life, Buck, and never once have you bothered to change in the bathroom. And the only time you ever wore a shirt to sleep was in the trenches. I couldn’t convince you to wear one even when the heat went out that one winter.” He sighs softly. “I won’t force you to do anything, I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”</p>
<p>Bucky smiles grimly. “Hydra… they weren’t exactly worried about my comfort or how pretty the end result was. So long as it worked properly.” He tucks both hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “And I— I wasn’t in the best way. The things they did to me… I’m not the same man you fell in love with.”</p>
<p>“Bucky, nothing, <em> nothing </em>they did to you could make me think less of you.” He moves so they’re face to face, close enough to feel one another’s body heat. “For me you were only gone a couple of weeks, and I— I never want to lose you again. So no matter what changed, I’m stickin’ around. End of the line and all that.”</p>
<p>Bucky can’t think of anything to say, so he doesn’t say anything. He just stands on his toes and presses his mouth against Steve’s. Years and years ago, unrushed kisses like this were rare. It’s nice, the soft feel of Steve’s lips moving in time with Bucky’s own. <em> It feels like coming home. </em></p>
<p>They pull apart slowly and Bucky feels less anxious now. He toys with the hem of his shirt. Before he can think better of it he takes a deep breath and pulls the fabric over his head and lets it drop to the floor.</p>
<p>Steve makes a half-formed sad noise as he takes it in, but there’s not even a shred of disgust in his eyes. The scarring spreads like flames from the edge of the metal. Gnarled, discolored and clearly self-inflicted. Bucky remembers clawing at it in disgust and fear. Hydra had to sedate him and cuff his right hand to keep him from bleeding himself dry. He still has nightmares about it sometimes.</p>
<p>Gently, <em> gently </em>Steve’s fingertips meet the cold metal wrist. His touch is so light the pressure sensors barely register it. Steve's hand slowly traces upwards to the forearm, the elbow, the bicep. He moves cautiously, inviting Bucky to draw a line in the sand and retreat. He doesn’t.</p>
<p>Steve’s touch pauses on the outside of his shoulder, tracing the star etched into the metal. It’s white now, recolored long ago by a coworker who promised not to ask questions or tell anyone. Steve presses on, fingers finally meeting silvery scar tissue. It’s sensitive in some places, and numb in others. It aches sometimes too, when there’s a storm brewing.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry…” Steve chokes, large hand resting over messy fusion of metal and flesh. “I’m so sorry.”</p>
<p>“There’s not a thing you could have done.” He says, gripping Steve’s other hand in his right. “‘Sides, can’t say I’m completely unhappy with how things turned out. I have you, don’t I? Call me a fool, but I’d do it again if it landed me back here with you.”</p>
<p>Steve doesn’t say anything, eyes wet.</p>
<p>“C’mon. Lets go to bed. All this emotional shit makes a guy tired.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that sounds good.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Steve gawks at the menu, and Bucky can’t decide what probably shocks the guy more, the price or the names of drinks.</p>
<p>“Careful, Rogers. You’ll catch flies like that.” He says. </p>
<p>“Buck, I have no idea what any of this is.” Steve admits.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it. Do you trust me not to poison you?”</p>
<p>Steve snorts, but nods anyway. Bucky turns to the barista.</p>
<p>“Hi there. I need one venti americano, and one grande caramel macchiato.” He says, and Steve looks at him like he just spoke fluent Mandarin (which he can do, but that’s not important). Bucky pays with a credit card and a polite ‘Thank you, ma’am.’</p>
<p>Historians like to paint Steve as the impulsive one and Bucky as the voice of reason, always the one pulling Steve out of fights and ending the ones he started, and it’s somewhat true. Steve is the more impulsive one, and Bucky did spend most of their adolescence pulling him out of fights, but Bucky has his moments too. </p>
<p>They’re standing near the counter and Bucky doesn’t even think about it. He just reaches over and takes Steve’s hand in his own, and really, he should have been able to predict what happens. </p>
<p>Steve freezes, full on, deer in the headlights, shoulders pulled up to his ears. His eyes dart around the room just waiting for someone to say something, to sneer and throw a punch, to call the cops. For Steve, just a month ago they would have been sneaking away to dark corners and lying through their teeth to avoid a blue discharge. For Bucky though, he’d had almost twenty years to get used to the idea.</p>
<p>Bucky lets go of Steve’s hand like he’s been burned. He’s just turning to apologize when the barista calls his name, stealing his attention away. Bucky holds both drinks in one hand, and pulls Steve by the sleeve to a table in the back.</p>
<p>“My bad, Steve. I shouldn’t have jus—” Bucky begins.</p>
<p>“It’s fine, I’m just not used to—” He gestures vaguely around the room. “—this. That no one cares. That we won’t get arrested.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. I get it. My therapist likes to tell me that things are a ‘process.’” He pushes something cold and frothy across the table, expression carefully blank. “Here, try this one.”</p>
<p>Steve takes a sip and the reaction is immediate. Steve’s face screws up and he squawks, coughing dramatically. “Buck! I trusted you not to poison me!”</p>
<p>“That was your first mistake.” Bucky snorts, holding back much more raucous laughter. “The future has a lot more sugar than we used to, that’s for sure.”</p>
<p>He pushes the other cup across the table, the liquid inside hot and bitter. An americano is much closer to Steve’s expectation of coffee, if only different in quality.</p>
<p>“Sure as hell beats Falsworth’s trench coffee.” Steve says, raising his cup in mock cheers.</p>
<p>“Hell yeah it does.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>
  <em> The motors of the Weapon whir with effort The bones of the woman in its grip crunch under the force. She does not die painlessly, or quickly, but she dies. The Soldier does not know why she has to die, he does not need to know. He just does as he’s told. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The Soldier stands from where the body lays, posture impeccable save for a slight leftward tilt. The job is done. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Except the woman isn’t dead. Her windpipe and neck bones are crushed but she gets up anyway and tackles Bucky to the ground. Her eyes are sunken and there are leaves in her hair. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Your fault!” She screams, voice raspy but so, so loud. “You killed me! You killed them! Steve is dead and it’s your fault!” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Bucky tries to scramble back but the snow is cold, freezing him on his back under her.  He feels trapped though she must weigh no more than a hundred pounds. “No, please!” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Bucky!</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Dead!” She cries. “Dead! Dead! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Wake up!</b>
</p>
<p>Bucky startles awake perfectly still, a habit born from too many broken things knocked over in a senseless panic. His heart is racing, thrumming in his chest, but he just stares at the ceiling.</p>
<p>
  <em> My name is James Buchanan Barnes. It’s 2011. I’m in Stark Tower in Manhattan. The Soldier is gone. Steve is alive. </em>
</p>
<p>“Buck?” Steve asks cautiously. The bedside lamp is on and he’s sitting against the headboard, hand on Bucky’s arm. “You were having a nightmare.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know…” He sighs, sitting up. “Did I wake you up?”</p>
<p>“Nah, I was awake already. You alright?”</p>
<p>“Same bullshit as always” Bucky dismisses. He leans, just a little bit, towards Steve who doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around his shoulders. After a moment, Bucky speaks up again. “I think I’d like to cut my hair short again. Will you do it for me?”</p>
<p>“Sure, Buck. We’ll do it first thing in the morning. Just like old times.”</p>
<p>Bucky nods and closes his eyes, leaning against Steve’s shoulder. They both fall into a restless half-asleep state for the rest of the night and Bucky doesn’t dream.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“You cut your hair!” Dr. Lehman exclaims the moment she lays eyes on him.</p>
<p>Bucky sits down on her plush office couch, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. The short hairs prickle his fingertips in a way they hadn’t for years. “Yeah, I had Steve do it for me.”</p>
<p>“It suits you, James. Can I ask what changed?”</p>
<p>“Pardon?”</p>
<p>“I mean, you haven’t cut your hair short since you defected from Hydra. There has to be a reason.” Damn SHIELD shrinks, they never hold back.</p>
<p>“Would you buy it if I said he’s the only one I trust to cut my hair?”</p>
<p>Dr. Lehman smiles at that. “While I suspect your trust issues are part of it, I don’t think it’s the only reason.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, something like that.” Bucky sighs, crossing his arms and staring at his boots.</p>
<p>“Take your time.”</p>
<p>And he does. Bucky likes Dr. Lehman more than any other shrink because she doesn’t push him to talk without sorting out his thoughts. She just waits patiently as the room lapses into silence. Five minutes later Bucky is the one to break it.</p>
<p>“I dunno, I guess I figured… If there was no Steve Rogers, there was no reason for Bucky Barnes? Or at least not in the same way?”</p>
<p>“Like you were stuck between two identities, perhaps? Not quite Bucky Barnes or the Winter Soldier?” Dr. Lehman proposes. </p>
<p>He nods.</p>
<p>“Do you think that maybe this decision is partially for Steve’s sake?” She says. “An attempt to bring back the Bucky Barnes that he knew?”</p>
<p>Bucky shrugs.</p>
<p>Dr. Lehman scribbles something in her notes and drops the topic. She knows him well enough to tell he’ll go completely non-verbal if she pushes it any further.</p>
<p>“Alright. I think there’s something to be said about how much of your identity revolves around Steve, but that can wait until next week.” She remarks. “How are the nightmares? I know last time you mentioned some changes.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“The world could end, and Coney Island wouldn’t change one bit.” Steve marvels, blue eyes excited behind sunglasses and a ball cap pulled low. The world doesn’t know he’s alive yet, but they’d both rather be safe than sorry.</p>
<p>Bucky walks on his left so he can hold Steve’s hand with his own and not the Weapon. PDA still makes Steve tense up with anxiety, but they’re working on it. The sun is high and blindingly bright, but the November air is cool all the same.</p>
<p>“You’re not wrong.” Bucky says after a moment. “The hotdogs even taste the same. Grease, grease, and more grease.”</p>
<p>Steve laughs, nose scrunching up in delight. Back before the war, when Steve was ninety pounds soaking wet, his laugh seemed far too large for his small frame. Now it feels like he’s grown into it. Bucky loves Steve’s laugh.</p>
<p>“C’mon! I want to ride the Wonder Wheel!” He says excitedly, tugging Bucky by their joined hands.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“This is capital theft, Bucky”</p>
<p>“This is inflation, Steve.” Bucky says, handing twenty dollars to the kid in the booth who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. She takes the money and gives a lame ‘Have a Wonderful ride.’</p>
<p>There’s another pair of passengers in the carriage, a pair of young Japanese girls who are talking excitedly and pointing at the view. Steve has a similar look himself, taking in all the new buildings that rise above familiar streets. It took a long time for Bucky to stop seeing double, the New York he’d known painted over with glass and steel.</p>
<p>The carriage comes to a stop at the top of the wheel, and Steve turns back from the view. It’s far windier up here, and the crisp November air makes their shoulders hunch up to their ears. Still, it’s nice, and both of them are grinning like loons.</p>
<p>“You better be happy, Punk.” Bucky jokes. “I’m freezing my good arm off up—”</p>
<p>Steve cuts him off unexpectedly, leaning in close and pressing his lips to Bucky’s. It’s soft, and warm, and perfect. For several long seconds everything else melts away except the affectionate way Steve is kissing him.</p>
<p>Then, all at once, Steve seems to realize where he’s at, and jerks away like he’s been burned. He looks quite comical, eyes wide and hands over his mouth in shock. Then he’s laughing, the sound vibrant as anything and rumbling from deep in his chest.</p>
<p>“You call that a kiss?” Bucky asks, grabbing him by the collar and reeling him back in. Yeah, this is nice.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>The room is bustling with activity and noise. Every reporter in the room is eager to know what’s going on, to get their big scoop. It’s not everyday that Stark Industries calls a press conference and says they’ve got a ‘surprise.’ They all know something big is going on,though. Last time something like this happened, it ended with Tony Stark coming out as Iron Man.</p>
<p>Steve takes a deep breath, hesitant to step through the door.</p>
<p>“You good, Stevie?” Bucky asks, stepping up beside him and settling a warm hand on the small of his back.</p>
<p>“Just… nervous, I guess.” Steve admits.</p>
<p>“You’ll do fine. It’s just like those USO Bond tours. If you can do it in tights, you can do it in a suit.”</p>
<p>“I hope so.” </p>
<p>“You got this.” Bucky says, giving him a quick kiss and urging him out the door.</p>
<p>Steve walks quickly to the podium. The room has fallen into stunned silence, and each step on the tile feels so, so loud.</p>
<p>“Good afternoon everyone. Thank you for coming.” Steve greets awkwardly. Thank goodness for Pepper’s notecards. “I’m sure some of you must recognize me. My name is Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America.”</p>
<p>The room explodes to life, reporters shouting over one another. The camera flashes are bright and Steve tries not to squint too much.</p>
<p>“I’m sure you have questions.” He says, and the room quiets. “What you know is true. In 1945 I crashed the Valkyrie, Johann Schmidt’s aircraft, into the Arctic in order to prevent the atomic bombs inside from reaching their destinations. For more than sixty years it was unable to be recovered.”</p>
<p>The whole room is listening with rapt attention. Steve swallows before continuing.</p>
<p>“The Valkyrie was discovered in October of last year. The cockpit had flooded on impact, and then frozen solid, with me inside. The intention was to bring my body back to the States for defrosting and a proper burial in Arlington. However, during the process of melting the ice, it was discovered that I still had a heartbeat. Due to the Super Soldier Serum, the Arctic conditions were just right to keep me in a cryogenic state for decades.”</p>
<p>“Why are we just hearing about this?” A reporter asks from the back, the first to break the silence.</p>
<p>“A lot of time has passed since 1945. I was confused when I woke up, and the future was completely overwhelming. I felt it best to adjust to the new millenia before announcing myself.” Steve answers.</p>
<p>The press conference goes on for well over an hour. Every time Steve pauses the room explodes with questions again. No one ever asked questions when he was doing the Bond tours, and he would absolutely trade this for a pair of wool tights and a troupe of showgirls. How Tony does this on a regular basis, Steve will never understand. </p>
<p>Slowly the questions devolve from serious questions about his plans and his recovery, to those of a gossip rag. His opinion on Star Wars hardly seems relevant (though he had enjoyed watching them).</p>
<p>“Captain America! What is your stance on same-sex marriage?” Steve doesn’t care much for this particular reporter. She never uses his name, opting to use his moniker instead. She smiles wolfishly, like she’s just unveiled the scandal of her career.</p>
<p>“I beg your pardon, ma’am?”</p>
<p>“If I recall correctly, homosexuality was a criminal offense in your time. As someone who embodies traditional American values, that is to say, Christian values, I would like to know your stance on the legalization of gay marriage that took place in New York last year.” She reminds him of a snake, Steve decides.</p>
<p>“My time? For me, ‘my time’ was just five months ago.” Pepper is going to be pissed that he’s going off script, but Steve doesn’t care at the moment. “There was nothing traditional about the way I grew up. I was a disabled, first generation American raised by a single mother. People whispered about my family and how unfortunate we were.</p>
<p>I always knew something was wrong with me, that I wasn’t supposed to be feeling the way I was. I lived in constant fear of someone finding out that I was, and still am, in love with my best friend. The threat of a blue discharge hung over our heads constantly. So I can say, without a doubt, that marriage equality is one of the best things I woke up to, because it means one day that I can marry someone I love.”</p>
<p>The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop.</p>
<p>“Congratulations ma’am, you have the scandal you were looking for. No more questions.” Steve walks away from the podium and out of the room, pointedly ignoring the way the reporters clamor behind him. </p>
<p>Bucky is waiting on the other side of the door to pull Steve close.</p>
<p>“You did great, Stevie.” He assures.</p>
<p>“I just came out as queer to the entire world.” Steve breathes, mind still processing.</p>
<p>Bucky laughs. “Yeah, you did. I guess that means it’s time to make that Twitter account Stark keeps insisting on.”</p>
<p>Steve groans, exhausted, and pulls away just enough to see Bucky’s face. “God, can you just kiss me?”</p>
<p>“Anything for you, doll.” He winks before obliging. A guy could get used to this.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Steve Rogers: Recovered and Alive</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Steve Rogers: Unworthy of His Title of Captain</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Captain America: Icon or Sinner</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Too Late for Don’t Ask Don’t Tell:<br/>Captain Rogers Announces His Sexuality</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Steve Rogers is Alive and Just Gave a Heartwarming<br/>Speech on Marriage Equality</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Truth Come Out:<br/>Does Captain America is Gay?</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“Steven Grant Rogers! Are you serious?! I told you not to go off script!” Pepper yells, as soon as she finds out. “I could care less who you do, but you’ve just created an international scandal! Do you realize countries all over the world are going to demand you be stripped of your title?”</p>
<p>“It’s a good thing I’m not a real Captain then.” He says, tacking on a meek ‘sorry’ when Pepper fixes him with a glare.</p>
<p>“You better be sorry, Rogers. This is a PR nightmare!”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p><b>Steve Rogers✓ </b> @starspangledpunk 2m <br/>          Stark insisted I needed one of these. Hello internet.</p>
<p><b>Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist✓ </b> @iamironman 2m <br/>          Took you long enough. BTW, you tweet like a 90 y/o </p>
<p><b>Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist✓ </b> @iamironman 2m <br/>          Oh wait…</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>Steve Rogers✓ </b> @starspangledpunk 6w <br/>          Am I doing this right?</p>
<p>          [image description: two men’s hands entwined on a Starbucks table. There are two cups on the table. The name ‘James’ is visible on one of them.]</p>
<p><b>Unarmed </b> @capsbiggestjerk 6w <br/>          You’re about as subtle as a freight train, doll.</p>
<p><b>Steve Rogers✓ </b> @starspangledpunk 6w <br/>          But you love me.</p>
<p><b>Unarmed </b> @capsbiggestjerk 6w <br/>          Unfortunately.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>Steve Rogers✓ </b> @starspangledpunk 5w <br/>          I am head over heels for this man.</p>
<p>          [image description: a brunet man is crouched at the edge of a pond, back to the camera. He is feeding the ducks.]</p>
<p><b>Steve Rogers✓ </b> @starspangledpunk 5w <br/>          Correction, I am head over heels for an idiot.</p>
<p>          [image description: the image is blurred with motion. The man from before is being chased by several angry swans]</p>
<p><b>Functional Moron </b> @annecourtney01 5w <br/>          @capsbiggestjerk who are you?</p>
<p><b>Unarmed </b> @capsbiggestjerk 5w <br/>          The luckiest man in the world.</p>
<p><b>Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist✓ </b> @iamironman 5w <br/>          Gross. Get a room you two.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>Steve Rogers✓ </b> @starspangledpunk 4w <br/>          He’s an actual heathen. </p>
<p>          [image description: a man in a green Henley taken from the neck down. He is pouring cereal over milk.]</p>
<p><b>Beth </b> @taydayithink 4w <br/>          That is both criminal and adorable. Please give us a hint @capsbiggestjerk</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>Unarmed </b> @capsbiggestjerk 2w <br/>          Like I said. Luckiest man alive.</p>
<p>          [image description: Steve Rogers from the stomach up. He’s shirtless on white bed sheets and lying on his side to face the camera. He’s smiling and his hair is messy.]</p>
<p><b>Frankie Stevens </b> @arachnidsaregross 2w <br/>          jsldfksdj I have no words. Oh my gods</p>
<p><b>it’s Jay </b> @jaybirdmerrick 2w <br/>          Are you serious?!!1?</p>
<p><b>Jackie Clarke </b> @notkent14 2w <br/>          I’m having a stroke.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>Steve Rogers✓ </b> @starspangledpunk 3d <br/>          Fine, we relent.</p>
<p>          [image description: a selfie taken from above of Steve Rogers. The brunette man’s chin rests on his right shoulder, and he’s pouting.]</p>
<p><b>Kat Belkin </b> @belkinsandwhistles 3d <br/>          I’m sorry,,, WHAT?!</p>
<p><b>Brandon Kolb </b> @kolbking15 3d <br/>          Is that Bucky Barnes? Like THE Bucky Barnes?</p>
<p><b>Unarmed </b> @capsbiggestjerk 3d <br/>          Yes.</p>
<p><b>Steve Rogers✓ </b> @starspangledpunk 3d <br/>          Yes.</p>
<p><b>Pepper Potts✓ </b> @vppotts 3d <br/>          James! Steve! Stop making important PR decisions without asking first!</p>
<p><b>Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist✓ </b> @iamironman 3d <br/>          Oooooh~ You’re in trou-ble!</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>The Mystery is Over:<br/>Captain America’s Secret Boyfriend</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luckiest Men Alive:<br/>Rogers and Barnes Are in Love</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You Have To See These Cute Tweets Captain <br/>America Posted About His Mystery BF</p>
<p> </p>
<p>15 Times Captain America Gushed<br/>About Bucky Barnes on Twitter</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Miracle or Monster: Barnes’ Soviet Ties</p>
<p> </p>
<p>How Much Do We Really Know About <br/>Sgt. James Barnes?</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>2013</p>
<p>“You’re going to have to order something different eventually.” Bucky comments as they walk through Central Park. The days are getting longer and the sun is warm on their shoulders.</p>
<p>Steve takes another sip of the Americano in his hand and grins. “Says who? I’m still scarred from that time you tried to poison me.”</p>
<p>“I did not try to poison you. You’re such a baby—”</p>
<p>“Captain Rogers?” Someone says from behind, grabbing their attention. A young woman is jogging towards them, no more than sixteen, with short colorful hair and a rainbow pin on her jacket.</p>
<p>“That would be me.” Steve smiles, visibly relieved she isn’t a reporter.</p>
<p>“And Sergeant Barnes, wow.” She gives a small wave. “ I just wanted to say thank you. I know it wasn’t really what you planned, but you two are basically LGBTQ+ icons. You’re the reason I had the courage to come out to my parents.” Her eyes are fixed on her shoes, but she speaks with sincerity.</p>
<p>“What’s your name, kid?” </p>
<p>“Sydnee, sir, but my friends call me Syd.”</p>
<p>“Well, Syd. I’m proud of you. I’m glad you get to grow up in a time where you feel safe and accepted.” Steve says, clapping a hand on her shoulder.</p>
<p>“What he said.” Bucky adds.</p>
<p>“That means a lot. Do you think I could get a picture with you?” She asks hopefully.</p>
<p>Obviously the answer is yes. Steve holds Syd’s phone out and all three of them cram into frame. She looks absolutely star struck.</p>
<p>“You know, for what it’s worth, I’m glad that you two got to have your happy ending. Have a great day, Cap, Sarge.” She grins and gives a relaxed salute before turning on her heel and running back the way she had come. Steve and Bucky watch as she slows to a stop next to another young woman, her girlfriend if the way they look at each other is any indication.</p>
<p>“God damn I love the twenty-first century.” Bucky says.</p>
<p>“You said it.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>xmaryslittlelambx just posted for the first time in a while.</p>
<p>          Y’all I just ran into Stucky out on a date in the park. Captain Rogers said he was proud of me. I can die happy now. God Bless America.<br/>#goodvibes #stucky #captainamerica #sergeantbarnes ...more…</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Steve wakes up in a panic, snapping upright. His heartbeat is so loud for a moment it feels like he’s having palpitations again, and his breath comes in too-quick wheezes. He can still feel the ghost of icy wind on his face and hear the ragged screams echoing in his ears.</p>
<p>“Stevie? You alright?” Bucky asks, voice laced with sleep and concern.</p>
<p>“No.” He admits, taking Bucky’s offered hand and leaning into the embrace.</p>
<p>“You wanna talk about it?”</p>
<p>Steve doesn’t answer for a minute, taking deep breaths and feeling the steady thrum of Bucky’s heart in his chest. <em> He’s alive. Bucky’s here. He’s safe. He’s alive. </em></p>
<p>“I was dreaming about the Alps, when you fell off the train.” He says finally.</p>
<p>“I’m here, Stevie. I’m safe. We’re safe.” Bucky promises.</p>
<p>“God, Buck. I love you so, <em> so </em>much. When you were gone I—” Steve says. He can’t finish that thought without choking up, so he doesn’t. He kisses Bucky and hopes that it conveys his thoughts and emotions. Carefully, reverently, like his very life is dependent on it. A sweet back and forth like the tide.</p>
<p>“I love you too. More than anything.” Bucky says against Steve's mouth. He smiles into the kiss in a way that’s contagious. They hadn’t kissed so heatedly since the French camp in 1944. “Marry me?”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>Bucky pulls away and digs around the nightstand drawer. A few moments later he turns back to Steve with a gold ring in the palm of his hand. “Marry me, Stevie?”</p>
<p>“Absolutely. Yes.” Steve laughs, taking Bucky’s face in his hand and peppering kisses all over it. They’re both laughing with delight now, loud in the quiet peace of their bedroom. When they pull apart long enough to slip the ring onto Steve’s finger it fits perfectly.</p>
<p>“Now you’re stuck with me, punk.” Bucky says. </p>
<p>“Christ, how did I get so lucky?” Steve marvels, looking back and forth between the ring and Bucky, unable to decide which deserves his undivided attention.</p>
<p>“Luck seems to find you, doll, and shit if I ain’t glad it does.”</p>
<p>Hours later in the early morning light, Steve finds the inscription on the inside of the ring and smiles.</p>
<p>
  <em> ‘Till the end of the line. </em>
</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p><b>Steve Rogers✓ </b> @starspangledpunk 5w <br/>          Even after 3 years the future never ceases to baffle me. At least I can say I have the world’s best fiance.</p>
<p>          [image description: Two left hands are entwined across a table. The one closest to the camera wears a gold band on the fourth finger. The other hand is made entirely of metal]</p>
<p><b>Unarmed✓ </b> @capsbiggestjerk 5w <br/>          Sap. &lt;3</p>
<p><b>Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist </b> @iamironman 5w <br/>          Congrats capsicle. You two give me cavities.</p>
<p><b>[Redacted] </b> @superspyspider 5w <br/>          James, if I am not your Maid of Honor, you’ll regret me kidnapping you.</p>
<p><b>Caw Caw </b> @deafbirb69 4w <br/>          Damn, I miss all the good stuff. Congrats dudes.</p>
<p><b>Norton. Syd Norton </b> @maryslittlelamb 4w <br/>          Oh. My. God. Congrats you two!!!1!</p>
<p><b>Peter Parker </b> @peteparkour02 4w <br/>          Icons™ </p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Captain America's Engagement Announcement<br/>is the Cutest Thing This Century</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tying the Knot: Stucky Got Engaged Everyone</p>
<p> </p>
<p>30 Reasons that Steve Rogers and Bucky <br/>Barnes are God Tier LGBTQ+ Icons</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The 1940’s Definitely Weren’t as<br/>Straight as You Thought</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rogers and Barnes: Together Since 1943</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>“Stevie, we’re trending.” Bucky comments, stealing another spoonful of cookie dough from the bowl. Steve hits him playfully on the wrist with the scoop, but all it does is make a muted <em> clink </em>noise against the metal.</p>
<p>“Good. Now the whole world can appreciate how cute my fiancé is.” Steve grins, leaning into Bucky’s warmth. <em>Fiancé. </em> It’s still so surreal to be able to call him that, with the promise of actually getting married. Some day he’ll legally be his <em> husband. </em></p>
<p>“I’m not cute. I’m a renowned assassin. I have a metal arm. I’ve killed people” He pouts. That’s new too, the joking about his time as the Soldier. </p>
<p>“You can’t fool me Barnes, I live with you. I’ve seen the Bucky Bear on your desk. You’re adorable.”</p>
<p>“Punk.” Bucky laughs, cuffing Steve affectionately on the back of the head.</p>
<p>“Jerk.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p><b>Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist✓ </b> @iamironman 3w <br/>          Congrats to my two favorite senior citizens.</p>
<p>          [image description: Steve and Bucky are standing at an altar in a small church, both wearing their dress uniforms and holding hands. An unknown red haired woman stands behind Bucky, and Sam Wilson stands behind Steve. Dr. Bruce Banner is officiating.]</p>
<p><b>Unarmed✓ </b> @capsbiggestjerk 3w <br/>          @iamironman You forgot my favorite picture.</p>
<p>          [image description: Same as the previous image, except Bucky has Steve in a dramatic dip and is kissing him]</p>
<p><b>MJ </b> @jonesy13 3w <br/>          Icons™ </p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>The year is 2014, and sometimes the twenty-first century is loud and confusing, but with Steve by his side, Bucky knows they’ll manage. After all, he’ll follow that skinny kid from Brooklyn anywhere, including the future.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed.<br/>I'm really proud of how this has improved, and I still like the disjointed style I used the first time around.</p>
<p>Tell me what you think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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